Haunted and Reckless
by StayClose
Summary: What if... Mage Hawke had taken a much more active role in the underground resistance in Kirkwall? Anders loves her and trusts her, so this time he tells her about his plans for the Chantry, and she contributes a few of her own. After all, the difference between freedom fighter and terrorist is only one of perspective, right? AU from Act 2 that will continue after the game ends.


_Another thing that started from a kink-meme prompt. Oh, how I wish I could just write PWP..._

_Anyway, this starts in Act 2 and will quickly descend down the AU rabbit hole after a bit of Sex in the Chantry (that was the name of the prompt)_

_*Ahem* I've changed the first chapter slightly since a kind soul pointed out that it's not (as I always thought) a statue of the Maker in the middle of the Chantry, it's Andraste. Oops._

* * *

She quickly covered her mouth to suppress her laughter as Anders tripped on the top step in the darkness.

'Shhh,' he hissed as he turned, eyes alive with mischief.

'What if it's locked?' she whispered back. They had raced part of the way from The Hanged Man, and his heavy breath was making her want him all the more urgently.

'Have faith, my love,' he said with a flourish and a bow as he pulled open the door to the Chantry.

Despite the three pints of brown swill that Varric insisted was Kirkwall's answer to Fereldan artisan ale, Hawke felt slightly daunted as she ducked inside the building. Dark shadows seemed to stretch forever up into the high vaulted ceiling, and the immense statue of the Maker's bride loomed over them as they made their way further in.

She grabbed his arm. 'This is so wrong,' she whispered. Then grinned. 'Where do you want to do it?'

Anders pulled her close and crushed his lips against hers. When he drew back, he gave her a wicked smile that made her stomach flip over. 'In for a silver, in for a crown,' he said. 'I want to take you up against Andraste. Next time Grand Cleric Elthina lights a candle by Her feet, her pious grey head will be just inches from where one mage made another scream.'

'You're going to the Void.'

'At least I'll be in good company.' He kissed her again, then led her up the stairs to the statue. They stepped over the tall red pillar candles around the golden icon, then Hawke found herself pushed back against the cold metal of the statue's right leg. She wrapped a hand through his hair and pulled his mouth towards hers.

Anders' hands moved from her shoulders to her breasts, and she moaned against his lips as he caressed her through her robes. He pressed his body close.

'You know the Chant, don't you?' she asked between kisses. She dropped a hand between his legs and rubbed the growing hardness of his erection, smiling at the way his breath caught.

'Some of the verses. I had to… oh, that feels so good… I had to write them out, over and over. Why?' His mouth fixed on her neck, just under her ear.

'Because I just thought of a way to make this even more sinful, my sweet.' Her hand tugged at the fastenings of his pants and let them drop to the floor. Anders groaned and gathered up her skirts. She brought his face to hers and looked into his brown eyes. 'I want you to recite it as you fuck me. We're going to take their words and make them our own.'

'Hawke…' His voice was low, a warning. 'You have no idea what you're doing to me.'

'Then show me,' she whispered.

With a groan that ended as a growl, Anders kissed her hard, his hand moving between them to guide his cock inside her.

Hawke wrapped her arms around his neck and they moaned together when he pressed forwards. He held her there, pinned, never breaking eye-contact as he tried to control his breathing. She could have sworn there was a flicker of blue flame in his eyes as he licked his bottom lip, but it was gone so quickly it may never have happened at all.

Then he began to speak in a harsh whisper, as he rolled his hips slowly.

_'O Maker, hear my cry:_  
_Guide me through the blackest nights_  
_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked_  
_Make me to rest in the warmest places.'_

Hawke gave a shaky laugh. 'That's perfect,' she said through shallow breaths.

'There's more,' Anders said. His thrusts were getting faster, more urgent. He put his lips next to her ear.

_'My Maker, know my heart_  
_Take from me a life of sorrow_  
_Lift me from a world of pain_  
_Judge me worthy of Your endless pride.'_

The words sent a shiver down her spine that nearly buckled her knees. 'Anders...'

He touched his forehead to hers. Their sharp gasps and low moans were loud in the dark, still air of the Chantry.

Hawke made him repeat that last verse again and again until her voice joined his own in hushed, ragged prayer, each making the other the subject of their worship. Her head swam at the realisation of the depth of her feelings for this renegade mage. This little corner of the Chantry became their whole world, her only focus was on the way he had started to skip some of the words, and how his thrusts had become harder and more erratic.

Anders groaned and dug his fingers into her hips as he climaxed. Hawke's eyes widened when the candles around them burst into flame at the same moment she felt him pulse deep inside her. She held him tightly as he shuddered, placing kisses on the rough stubble of his cheek and neck.

He exhaled long and low, then raised his head, the blazing firelight reflected in his eyes as he looked around. 'Did I do that?'

'I think so,' she said. She sighed when he stepped back and slipped out of her.

Anders gave her that rakish half-smile she had fallen for years ago, and leaned forwards. 'There's a verse about kneeling too, if you want to hear that one?' His fingers moved slickly over her clit as her breath hitched.

'Maker, yes,' she said with a moan.

He chuckled but the pair were frozen in place as a horribly familiar voice rang out. 'Hallo? Is anyone there?'

'Sebastian,' Hawke hissed as Anders pulled up his pants. With a wave of his hand, the candles winked out, and they huddled together in the dark, hardly daring to breathe. Hawke was suddenly overwhelmed again by the urge to laugh and pressed both hands against her mouth to try and stifle it. She felt Anders' body tense as Sebastian called again, then they heard the sound of his footsteps coming down the stairwell to their left.

'It's okay if you seek warmth and shelter, friend. The Chantry is open to all those with a need...' Sebastian continued.

Hawke put her hand firmly on Anders' arm as he started to rise and held him back with a shake of her head. She crept around the alcove until she could just make out the archer's shadowy form.

'Forgive me, Seb,' she whispered, as she raised her hand towards him. _'Sleep.'_


End file.
